


if i loved you less

by elisabethsdoppler



Category: Dark (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Childbirth, Eventual Major Character Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fate, Fluff, Marriage, Past Sexual Assault, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Silja Deserved Better, starts in 1890
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:06:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26118478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisabethsdoppler/pseuds/elisabethsdoppler
Summary: “if i loved you less, i might be able to talk about it more.” -jane austen, ‘emma’bartosz and silja fall in love slowly. she knows she is meant to be with him, but she didn’t know she would love him.
Relationships: Bartosz Tiedemann & Magnus Nielsen, Bartosz Tiedemann/Silja Tiedemann, Franziska Doppler & Bartosz Tiedemann, Franziska Doppler & Silja Tiedemann, Franziska Doppler/Magnus Nielsen, Jonas Kahnwald & Bartosz Tiedemann, Silja Tiedemann & Jonas Kahnwald
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	1. there is no charm equal to tenderness of heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first chapter of my Bartosz & Silja fic! I’ve been working on it for a while, and I hope you like it!!!

Bartosz‘s hand was softer than she had expected. All of Silja’s life, people had touched her roughly and coldly. The only loving touch she could remember was hazy, an almost forgotten memory. It had been a beautiful woman with round cheeks and freckles, who had brushed her hair away from her face and pulled Silja into her arms. She hadn’t felt much gentleness since then. She was a stranger to love, a stranger to soft touches and caresses. Of course she knew Bartosz didn’t love her, but there was gentleness in the way he looked at her that she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Bartosz catches her eyes then, and a smile creeps across his face. She can’t help but smile back. He was so earnest looking. Silja doesn’t trust him. She wanted to, but he couldn’t. No one could be that kind, that gentle, if they weren’t lying. 

“Would you like to come back to where I live?” He says slowly, “It’s warm and dry there, and you shouldn’t be out in the rain too long or you’ll catch a cold.”

Silja hesitates, and then nods. Adam said she was to be this man’s companion, which meant she had to spend time with him.

His hand slips away from hers, and almost instantly she has the urge to pull it back to her. But she doesn’t. She just smiles and walks beside him. He strolls slowly, almost like he’s afraid she won’t be able to keep up. They walk through damp grass and weeds, and she tries to avoid mud and puddles.

“Are you from Winden?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says. “but it was ... different, the last time I was here.”

“That’s the same as it was for me when I arrived.” he mumbles. “It wasn’t as I expected.”

They walk in silence the rest of the way there. Silja can’t help but study the curve of his cheekbones, the shape of his lips. Eventually they reach a large gate with the name ‘Tannhaus’ in iron. She has a strange sense of déjà vu, as if she had been here before. 

Bartosz strides ahead, and she hikes up her skirt to keep up. He opens the door for her, and she shivers when she enters. The room wasn’t much warmer than outside. The room was filled with strange instruments and contraptions. A man sat on a stool, facing away from her. His sleeve was torn and he appeared to be bandaging a wound. There was a large stone bowl in the middle of the room, and gold rods surrounding it. Silja recognizes it. It was different than the one in 2053, but it was still the same mechanics.

“You’re trying to harness the God Particle,” she breathes.

The man jumps from the stool and turns to face her. As soon as he saw Silja, he recoils as if she has slapped him. She recognizes him almost immediately. It had been less than a year since she had last seen him, but it had clearly been much longer since he had last seen her. His face was weary and cold, but his eyes still held that same sadness. It was a sort of hopelessness, a desperation.

“Silja?” Jonas barks as he strides toward her. “Why are you here? How did you get here?” His chest was heaving and his eyes were full of anger. Bartosz looked confused. His brow was furrowed and he seemed almost frustrated with Jonas’s demeanour.

“Adam sent me, you sent me.” 

Jonas looks tired. He was tired of fighting his destiny. He had already started to become Adam. Silja knew it, Bartosz knew it, even he knew it.

His shoulders collapse a little and he simply nods. Silja let out a breath of air she hadn’t known she was holding. He has a spark in his eyes that she hadn’t seen in his younger self. A sort of mania. It terrifies her. 

She thinks that it’s over. But then he looks down and sees her dress. He instantly stiffens.

“How did you get that?” his voice is restrained, as if it was taking all of his energy not to scream at her. “that dress,”

“From Martha,” she states simply.

Silja could almost see the gears turning in Jonas’s head. She saw the look of realization cross his face.

“She can stay,” he spoke to Bartosz, “Give her a room.” Bartosz looks a bit annoyed at being ordered around, but he simply nods and gestures for Silja to follow him.

The hallways are dark and damp, but they were still cleaner than what she was used to. He opens the door to a room at the end of the hall. It is poorly lit and freezing cold. She notices neatly folded clothes on the chair in the corner.

“We are having dinner soon, so if you want to change out of your wet clothes now is the time,” Bartosz says before exiting the room.

Silja inspects the clothes. There was a soft cotton dressing gown and a plaid dress to go overtop. There was also a set of soft cotton socks. They were the most beautiful clothes she had ever seen. She quickly undoes the clasps on the wet dress and carefully pulls it off. She reaches to undo the swath of fabric tying the knife to her leg. Elisabeth had taught her to be wary of those she didn’t know. Silja lifts the dressing gown over her head. It was softer than anything she had ever worn. The plaid dress took a while to button up.

When Silja exits the room, Bartosz is standing outside waiting for her. He had changed his clothes as well. He wore a soft looking grey sweater and dark pants. 

He leads her through the twisting hallways, frequently looking over his shoulder to make sure he hasn’t lost her. They eventually arrive in a small room. There was an iron stove-type contraption near the wall, and a table with chairs in the center. A beautiful woman with long red hair and a tall man with wide eyes are perched on chairs. They look familiar. When Bartosz and Silja enter the room, they appear surprised to see another person. 

“Hello,” Silja spoke softly. The tall boy nods his head in greeting.

“This is Silja. Silja, this is Magnus and Franziska.” 

Silja’s eyes widened as she took them in. They were a lot younger than when she had last seen them. 

“I’m a traveler,” she supplies, before pulling out a chair to join them. Franziska seems wary of her. 

There was a long silence. Magnus cut Silja a piece of what looked like a roast, and scoops potatoes onto a plate. Bartosz joins them at the table, sitting in the chair next to Silja’s. Magnus serves him as well, while Franziska glares at her.

Silja ate quickly. She wasn’t used to having home cooked meals. Food after the apocalypse was mostly old canned vegetables or meat like squirrels. If she was lucky, she would be able to have half a can every day. 

Magnus ate like she did, like he thought this meal would be his last. Bartosz ate slowly and carefully. His hands were wiry and moved quickly and gently. Franziska continues to stare at Silja, propping her face up on her hands.

“Where exactly did you travel from?” Franziska asks, her eyebrows raising.

“The future,” Silja responds casually. Magnus chokes on a mouthful of potato.

That seemed an adequate answer for Franziska. After all, they were from the future as well.

The rest of the dinner is spent in silence. Silja carries her dishes to the bucket of warm water, and washes them. 

“I’m going to get some rest. Thank you very much for the meal.” Silja smiles, trying to appear gracious. She can’t help sneaking a glance at Bartosz, who is tugging at a loose thread of his sweater. 

The hallways are dark and all look the same, so Silja gets lost quite quickly. She’s not used to this much space. In the 2050s, even if you were in an open space you would be pressed against others. It was almost worse than being locked in a cage. 

“Why are you here?”

Silja turns, quickly spotting Jonas. His eyes are narrowed, and he looks as though she’s a criminal. Like what she was doing is wrong, that she is wrong. 

“I told you already. Adam sent me.” Silja tries to be strong, to not crack under his piercing gaze. His blue eyes are cold and unfaltering.

“Do you know everyone who follows him?” he asks slowly. 

“Most of them. All of the important ones met with us in 2053.” 

Jonas raises his eyebrows at that. Silja gazes back. She knows what he’ll ask. She knew him when he was a teenager, and he always asked about the same things: Martha and his mother.

“Is my mother there? She took the device and I haven’t seen her since.”

“I didn’t see her there.” 

Jonas’s face drops at that. He would do anything for his mother, just like she would do anything for hers. The only difference is that Jonas knew who his mother was. Silja never really knew her mother, and would never see her again.

“I’m sorry,” she spoke slowly. She doesn’t want him to feel worse. He is sad enough.

“Why did he send you here?” Silja doesn’t want to lie, but she doesn’t want to upset him either.

“For Bartosz,” she says simply. “He didn’t tell me anything else, just that I should go to 1888 and find him.”

Jonas nods. “The loop must be preserved before we break it.” Silja winces. She had heard that countless times before. It was just a way for Adam to give people false hope. She never voiced these concerns, it seemed like the kind of thing that Elisabeth executed people for.

Jonas walks away without another word. She almost calls out for directions, before she realizes that she doesn’t want to spend that much time with this Jonas. Well, he wasn’t really Jonas. He was Adam. 

She eventually found her room. Silja isn’t used to having clean clothes, to having a bed, to being clean. It felt like she was in a dream. She takes off the heavy plaid dress, and climbs in the bed covered in the cotton underdress. The blanket is soft and warm, and she drifts off to sleep quickly. 

-

Silja wakes up late at night. She is more tired than she has been in a long time, but she simply cannot be asleep with those noises. Loud moaning and the sound of skin against skin echoes through the walls. A voice calls out “Franziska!” and the moans grow in volume.

She feels suffocated. She can’t be in here, not while something like that is happening. She can’t listen to it. She knows that Magnus and Franziska are both consenting, but she can’t listen to those noises without thinking about what happened. 

Silja quickly scrambles out of the room, tripping over her own feet. She rushes through the dark hallways, desperate to just be away from here. She eventually reaches the room she entered in, the one with the God Particle contraptions. She rushes to the door and throws it open.

The fresh air feels clean. She hadn’t felt truly clean air in so long. A sob escapes her lips and she sinks to her knees. Silja clasps a hand over her mouth, even though she knows there isn’t anyone there to hear her. She doesn’t know how long she sits there. It feels like ages. 

“Silja?” a soft voice calls out from behind her. Bartosz. 

She turns to face him. His eyes are concerned, and he moves slowly as if not to scare her. He takes off his sweater and gently drapes it over her shoulders. His touch is brief and gentle. He holds out his hand to help her up. Silja takes it.

“Do you want to go back inside?” He says slowly. She nods. He gently tries to untangle his hand from hers, but she clings to it like a lifeline. Bartosz leads her inside, and through the hallways until they reach a room Silja hasn’t been in before. It’s small but cozy. There’s a bed in the corner, and a small table with two chairs on the other side of the room

“Do you want to talk about it?” he looks at her sympathetically. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but sometimes it helps to say it out loud. It makes it seem less real.”

Silja hesitates before shaking her head. Maybe one day she’ll tell him, but not now. She doesn’t want to think about it.

“Can you tell me a story?” she asks softly. “I just want to think about something else.” Bartosz nods and pulls out a chair at the table for her before sitting in one himself. 

So he talks. He tells her about his mother and father, and how he met Jonas when they were both little. She laughs when she hears that. It’s difficult to imagine Jonas as a child. He tells her about his friends and home and school. He looks shocked when she tells him she never went to school.

“What time did you grow up in?” he asks.

“I lived in the 1980s for a while,” she says “and then someone brought me to 2040, so I mostly grew up there.” Bartosz’s eyes widen.

“What’s the future like?” he sounds almost excited. “Are there hoverboards? How did the apocalypse happen?” he pauses before asking solemnly “Is there a real cure for cancer?”

Silja thinks before responding. “The apocalypse happened because of nuclear waste and the God Particle, I think. I’m not sure about the cure for cancer, but most medicines and treatments aren’t as good as before, so probably not.” His face falls. “and I don’t know what a hoverboard is.” She scrunches up her nose and he laughs. 

“It’s like a floating skateboard,” he says, “ my dad always told me that they would be real in the future,” Silja giggles.

“How does it float?”

Bartosz shrugs. “I don’t know,” She laughs again, and he smiles at her so gently she feels like her heart will explode. 

“Wait so,” he pauses, “If you didn’t go to school, can you read?” 

“Of course!” Silja snickers, “My mom taught me a little, and then after that my foster mom taught me.”

“Who’s your mom?” Bartosz blurts out. Silja shrugs.

“I don’t know, I don’t remember her very well,”

“What about your foster mom?”

“Her name is Elisabeth,” Silja began. He looks shocked .

“Hold on,” He exclaims, “Is your foster mom Elisabeth Doppler?”

“You know her?” Silja is surprised, Elisabeth never mentioned him.

“Yeah, she’s Franziska’s sister so I saw her around,” he mutters. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “What was she like?”

“Stern,” Silja says. Bartosz eyebrows raise, as if he can’t quite believe her. “But kind. She tried to protect me, even if I wasn’t happy with the way she did it.”

He nods. “I felt the same way about my parents. If I ever have kids, I want to do better. You know, let them know they’re loved, communicate with them.”

“Me too,” They both share soft smiles. She eventually goes back to her room, and when Silja falls asleep she thinks of him.


	2. let other pens dwell on guilt and misery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> franziska and silja get to know each other better, and silja becomes more comfortable in her new home.
> 
> “Jonas’s eyes widened, and guilt flashed across his face. He smiled wryly, as if he was laughing at a cruel trick the universe was playing on him. She supposed they all were.
> 
> Bartosz was standing off to the side, watching the interaction from afar. He looked ridiculously out of place. Not just in the room, but everywhere in general. It seemed like this wasn’t where he belonged. He was lost in time, probably separated from his family just like Silja was. Perhaps they were more similar than she thought.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it’s been a while since i last posted! i’ve rewrote this chapter quite a few times, and i’m really happy with how it turned out. 
> 
> also thank you for all the kind comments on the previous chapter! it means the world to me

Franziska corners her in the hallway the next morning. “Bartosz says you know my sister. Where is she? How do I get to her?”

“The God Particle,” Silja replies. She knows Adam wouldn’t like it if she told them everything she knew, but she didn’t want to lie. “But not now, in the future.”

Franziska groans. “This is so ridiculous, if you’re from the future, you can find a way back. A door works both ways.”

“That’s not how the God Particle works, and that’s how I got here. You won’t be able to leave until it’s stabilized.”

“Fuck!” Franziska tells, turning away from Silja. She angrily wipes tears off her face. Magnus turns the corner and she bumps into him, swearing again and pushing past him. He turns to Silja and walks towards her.

“Sorry about that. She can be a little...” He trails off, looking for the right words. “Once she calms down, she’ll probably want to know about her sister, and how her life is.” 

Silja nods and walks away. It’s confusing to be around them, when she has already met them as adults. They were so ... different. Franziska was so much angrier than when she had last seen her. It was hard to believe the gentle woman with the kind eyes was her future self. 

The hallways are dark and confusing, and it’s very easy to get lost. They all look the same. There aren’t many memorable places or symbols. Until, she spots Bartosz’s door. She doesn’t want to wake him, but she knocks anyways. From behind the door, there is muffled thumps and occasional curse words. Finally, he opens the door.

His hair is disheveled, sticking up in strange places, and his shirt is untucked and wrinkled. He wipes the sleep from his eyes.

“Hi,” he says, “Sorry that took a while.”

“No it’s alright!” Silja says bashfully.”I shouldn’t have woken you.”

“It’s not a problem,” He starts walking, and Silja trails behind him. She likes that he doesn’t seem to be bothered or disturbed by her presence. They approach the main room, where Jonas seems to always be. The room where the God Particle is.

“We need to talk,” Jonas states as soon as she enters. She expected this, but Adam hadn’t told her what to do if it happened. Magnus and Franziska are standing behind him, looking stern as well. She approaches slowly, making sure to not show any weakness. She assumed Bartosz follows her, but she doesn’t look over her shoulder to check. 

“I told you everything already,” Silja says. “Adam didn’t tell me much.” Jonas looks like he’s ready to attack her, but Franziska shoves past him and speaks instead. 

“Tell me about Elisabeth.” Franziska demands. Silja nods. She told Franziska everything. 

“She was.... stern, cold at times. I was brought to her when I was five years old. She had just lost a child, and she didn’t want a replacement. Her baby girl, she had told me. And that her husband had gone looking for her and hadn’t come back. When I told her my name, she laughed. She didn’t believe me. Elisabeth said that her husband’s mother’s name was Silja.

She didn’t talk much for the first few years. She was in grief, and she didn’t want more responsibility. She made sure I ate once every few days, but I mostly fended for myself. Elisabeth taught me sign language, and I was a fast learner. 

A woman approached me once when I was eight. She said that her name was Claudia. I don’t remember much from the first few years, but I always remembered her face. 

She said, “Fate works differently than we think it does. People are not as restrained as they think they are, there is no all powerful being telling us what to do. ‘We are not free in what we do because we are not free in what we desire’. Your son told me that.”

I was scared, so I ran and told Elisabeth. She said that if Claudia ever approached me again, I should run far away and hide. She said the woman stole children. When I told her that Claudia had said something my son had told her, she got very upset. She didn’t speak to me for many days.

She mentioned you, Franziska. She said you were pretty and fierce and fearless. Elisabeth said she had searched for you but couldn’t find you. She loved you very much.”

Franziska sniffles and wipes tears from her eyes. She stands and leaves almost immediately. Jonas approaches Silja, an almost manic look in his eyes.

“Why did you say that,” he hisses, “about Claudia.”

“I’m not sure,” Silja responds timidly, “My foster mother told me to mention Claudia if I ever saw you.”

Jonas’s eyes widened, and guilt flashed across his face. He smiled wryly, as if he was laughing at a cruel trick the universe was playing on him. She supposed they all were.

Bartosz was standing off to the side, watching the interaction from afar. He looked ridiculously out of place. Not just in the room, but everywhere in general. It seemed like this wasn’t where he belonged. He was lost in time, probably separated from his family just like Silja was. Perhaps they were more similar than she thought.

Magnus left shortly after, the tension in the room probably making him uncomfortable. Jonas paced back and forth. He looked lost in thought, while Bartosz looked uncomfortable watching the two of them. 

“Why is everyone always so fucking cryptic?!” Jonas yelled, “Why can’t anyone just say what they really mean?”

Silja didn’t have a good answer for that. Most things were hard to explain, it was difficult to find the right words.

“Fuck off!” Bartosz exclaimed, “Leave her alone, she hasn’t done anything to you.”

Her mouth fell open in shock. No one had come to her defence like that before. Especially not about something so ... insignificant. When Elisabeth defended her, it was usually physically against someone trying to hurt her. 

Jonas didn’t respond, just waved towards the door as if shooing them out. Bartosz walked swiftly, while Silja followed after him. They walked outside to the courtyard, stopping at the same spot he had found her the night before. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Silja broke the silence. “It doesn’t matter, I’m used to far worse than a vague insult.”

“You deserve better than to be used to it though,” he responded. They were silent for a long while after, the only sounds being Bartosz’s shoes against the ground.

“Hold on,” he turned to face her, “You met someone who knew your son? Like as an adult?”

Silja nodded. “Time travel messes everything up,” He cracked a smile at that. It was true.

A few weeks later that had settled into a routine. Every morning she would find Bartosz, and they would walk through the forest where they first met. They exchanged stories of their childhoods, and Silja found out truly how different their origins were. He had two parents, a comfortable home, money, and people who loved him. Silja hadn’t had any of that. She grew up mostly by herself, her mother almost forgotten, alone in a harsh and unforgiving landscape. Bartosz had paled whenever she explained something that had been normal for her, like always having to cover her face to make sure she wasn’t exposed to the toxic rainfall, or fight off people who wanted to take her supplies. They had differing viewpoints on this time as well. Bartosz didn’t like it. It was uncomfortable and dreary compared to what he was used to. For Silja, it was the height of luxury. 

Despite all of this, Silja couldn’t help but feel like they were kindred spirits. When she was only three or four, her mother had read her Anne of Green Gables. The memory was foggy, but it was still one of her most cherished moments. She remembered wanting a Gilbert or Diana so badly, and now she couldn’t help but feel that it was Bartosz. Adam has spoken of fate, how things must happen the way they always have. Did that mean that no matter what she did, her son would meet Claudia and Elisabeth? Did that mean she didn’t have a choice in what she did?

Bartosz didn’t worry about all of that too much. He said that he’d never wanted to get involved with any of this, and that his parents had told him that he was in charge of his own fate. He didn’t believe in destiny, or that there was any sense of order in this chaos. But again, this was just a product of their differences. Bartosz never had to survive like Silja had, he never had to worry about being raped or killed. When she was brought to Elisabeth, this was all she had. Hope. Hope that everything would be fixed, that all this pain and suffering would end, that she would be reunited with her mama in Paradise. 

After their talks, they would go to Magnus and Franziska’s room for food. Franziska has warmed up to her a little, but was still wary and suspicious. They are mostly in silence, with Magnus occasionally cracking jokes. He was a good man, Silja had decided. Like Bartosz.

On the eve of her fourth week, things changed. Franziska asked her to stay the night with her, like a slumber party. Silja had been confused, but Bartosz had just laughed and told Magnus they should go.

“Why are you doing this?” Silja asked softly, “I didn’t think that you liked me very much.”

“I don’t know you well enough to make a decision.” Franziska cracked a smile. “I didn’t have many friends before all of this, and it seems like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” She laid blankets and pillows on the ground, and gestured for Silja to lie down beside her. The blankets were warm, and it reminded Silja of when she was a child.

Franziska leaned back and closed her eyes. Her long red hair was splayed across the pillow. She was very beautiful, Silja thought. She looked like a girl from one of Silja’s books.

“Can we just pretend we’re two normal girls having a sleepover? That we’re not time travellers who are stuck in 1890?”

Silja snorted. “Yes please,”

“Who was your mother?” Franziska asked.

“I’m not really sure,” Silja responded cautiously, “She died when I was very young. Adam took me away from her, he said that I didn’t belong. I think he killed her. Adam said she was sleeping, but my mama didn’t look like that when she was sleeping.”

“Holy shit,” Franziska breathed, “That’s insane. Why do you follow him, if you think he killed her?”

“There was no one else to follow,” Silja states simply.

“What about Elisabeth?”

“She followed Adam as well.”

Franziska cackled, tilting her head back. “My sister, part of a cult? I’ll have to see it to believe it.” Silja giggled.

“What was your mother like?” Silja asked.

“Stern, cold,” Franziska had a bitter look in her eye, “She never told me the truth, but I still loved her.”

“My father read to me a lot, when I was small,” she turned to face Silja. “Like the classics, Emma, Little Women, all that shit.”

“My mom read those to me too,” She replied. “My favourite was Anne of Green Gables,”

“No way! Me too,” Franziska grinned. “I loved how fearless she was, how wild.”

Silja nodded. “I loved Jane Austen’s too. They were so poetic and beautiful.”

“I guess,” Franziska shrugged. “I was never one for epic romances.”

“What about Magnus?” 

“I love him, but we’re not like a love story for the ages. I’m content with not having a fairytale story because I want him, not any of that.”

Silja laughed, and so did she. Perhaps there was more love with her than she had thought. 

The next morning, the conversation at the table was lively. Franziska and Silja talked and laughed, while Magnus and Bartosz made quiet conversation about God knows what. She felt content. Safe. It was a good feeling, like being lost at sea and spotting land. It was hope.


End file.
